Peter had no idea if the idea was a better one than letting it all happen over again -- especially if it was going to happen slower. The slight tremor in his shoulders picked up faintly, making it look as if Peter was simply shivering, though it made him ache, as if the remnants of his recent deaths were simply tiring his muscles out.

Making a noise somewhere between a hiccup and a laugh, Peter was suddenly tried to wiggle out from underneath Sylars hold which was hard when he was near dumb with terror, his gaze scattering across the room, because it seemed suddenly that while everything was popping up more slowly, that simply meant it would take just that much longer to kill him. And if anything, that sounded infinitely more torturous.

"Goddammit, I don't want it to go any slower this time." He wasn't even looking at Sylar when he said it, and he didn't know who he was pleading to, or for at this point. Peter simply imagined that if he was home alone, he would handle this all his own way -- curling up and letting himself die on instant reply until the poison finally cleared from his system, or he lost his mind. Whichever happened first.

"But it doesn't-- You don't have to do anything, I don't--" At this rate, Peter was crumbling fast, and he was going to end up curling into himself with or without Sylar being there, the shaking only encouraging his breakdown, and not of the physical variety. "I don't know what to do."